Cold Shoulder
by pippin143
Summary: Some time has passed since "Someone I'm Not", but Saber and Vorstag have stayed true their cause and have been taking the Daedra head on. But when they encounter a more gruesome, vile trial that tests not only their morals but their hearts, will their partnership last? (rated M for rare explicit and mildly disturbing content).
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! This is a continuation of Saber x Vorstag. If you're new here, I strongly, strongly suggest reading their first story "Someone I'm Not" and if you like that come back here. If you've already read that one, thanks for coming back and continuing the sotry with me! This one is going to be a little fluffier, a littler darker, and fast paced! Enjoy and leave comments with any ideas you have! (Sorry this chapters short, I promise the others will be longer!) **

* * *

><p>Silus was an idiot. As I shoved him down the winding stairs that led to the shrine (making sure of course he landed unharmed in a soft pile of snow) I again wondered why we had gone to such great lengths to save him. Like we had agreed, Vorstag and I traveled as far from Markarth as possible, landing ourselves in the cold little town of Dawnstar. I shivered with disgust at the memory of my first encounter with the snow. The Reach had been so warm. Up here there was nothing but ice and the thick-headed Nords who called it home. There we met Silus, the Dawnstar museum curator, who had been so eager to fix some Daedric relic with the power of the Daedric prince Mehrune Dagon. He wasn't a cultist, he assured us. It was all in the name of history. That dagger was supposed to go in one of his displays.<p>

Vorstag convinced me that we should help him in effort to save the curator's life. He said the man didn't know what he was getting himself into. I then promptly told him we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into. But, nonetheless, we went on this epic quest to find the dagger's missing pieces and then followed the history fanatic to Mehrune's shrine where the evil prince would hopefully help us re-forge the ancient dagger. Dagon was more than willing to help, so long as we killed Silus. Being the Daedric hunters we were, we quickly refused. That's when the two dremora appeared.

Silus cries loudly as he falls, but is soon muffled as he plunges into the deep white. After a moment I see him splutter up, white dust flying, grasping at himself in a manic attempt to make sure he's still alive and in one piece.

"Stay. Down. There." I shout to him. He nods vigorously and withdraws back into the snow. I whirl around ready to face the dremoras.

"KILL HIM, OR I WILL CRUSH YOU." Dagon's deep, throaty voice growls from the shrines statue, a twenty foot tall carved orc that lounges in the mountains peak as if it were a throne. The stony face seems both amused and enraged. I begin to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"How about not?" Vorstag shouts in his heavy accent at the statue, pulling his ebony sword from its sheath. Ebony has been his favorite ever since he got that mail cuirass. The dark armor style suited him, making up for his nordic blondness.

"YOU THINK TO BETRAY MEHRUNE DAGON? SUFFER!"

With the dremora now fully materialized, Vorstag runs at the nearest, slicing in a diagonal motion that digs perfectly into the exposed side of its neck. The demon hisses in pain and recoils, pulling out its own two-handed weapon. Though we are more experienced, these things are still hard to kill.

As Vorstag duels the two-handed, I turn to the other one holding an enchanted mace. It seems proud as it bares it teeth at me and begins to charge.

"Fancy the arcane?" I say with a wicked grin. "Me too." Then my hands burst into flames.

XXX

"That went well." Vorstag says as he hefts the armor off of the dead dremora. Though we are disgusted by them, daedric equipment fetches a pretty high price on the black market.

We stand inside a little treasure room hidden behind a a secret door at the base of Dagon's statue. There were two more dremora mages inside, but we caught them off-guard so we defeated them pretty easily. Dagon hadn't said anything since we denounced his command, and I was sure it would stay that way. Though the Daedra hate being told no, they can't help but admire strong warriors. But I was still a little worried about Silus.

After the demons were killed, he came sniveling up the mountain and refused to leave our side. The whole ordeal had shaken him up pretty good, probably scarring him for life. I guess he wasn't used to dark deities clamoring for his head. He stood by us now in the treasure room, clutching the dagger pieces in shaky hands.

"Take it all," he whimpers, "take it all, then let's get back to Dawnstar." The room was full of gold, gems, and other priceless objects. I'm pretty sure that Vorstag wasn't planning on sharing with the imperial, but his offer definitely made things less complicated.

"Be happy you're alive, Silus." Vorstag says as he hefts the bag full of treasure onto his back. "Another group might not have been so compassionate. How about we don't play with daedric artifacts in the future, okay?"

"I—I can never repay you for what you have done! You saved my life and my work!" He sobs, choking on the words. "I have money and—the dagger—,"

"Keep it." I say, holding my hands up. He flinches as if I was going to blast him with more flames. I uneasily drop them back to my side. "We want nothing to do with those ancient deadric relics, and I already got myself a dagger." I pat the husk on my side, its empty gem thirsting for another soul it will never have. Utterly useless, besides stabbing people in the back, but I can't bear myself to part with it. "But I suggest not trying to piece it back together again."

"I won't, I promise." He says vehemently, and I believe him. "It'll do just as good in my collection in pieces as it would as a whole." He pauses and looks down at the rusty pieces clenched in his hands. "Can we go back now, please?"

XXX

"What was that, our fifth quest?"

"Fourth," Vorstag says with a merry grunt as we trudged through the snow. "Clavicus Vile and his dog do not count."

"But it was a talking dog!" I protest, jogging with high knees to keep up with him. I can feel the freeze through my layers of armor leather and fur insolation. "And I'm still mad you wouldn't let me keep him!"

"That mutt wouldn't shut up." He growls, giving me a hand as we ascend a steep hill. "And the Daedra wanted us to kill it, so if it'd stayed I might have just done that. You don't want me conforming to their demands now, do you?"

"You are so melodramatic." I huff as he drops me onto the level ground. We stop for a moment at the top of the hill. Snow falls down slowly all around us and it's completely silent, save our heavy panting. "We need to sell all this shit." I breathe, adjusting my own bulging sack. "It's weighing us down."

"Yeah, no use being winded at the start of an attack." He says, taking deep breaths of his own. I nod in agreement. Walking through the woods in Skyrim was no better than entering a cave. Bandits, frostbite spiders, trolls, vampires, old ladies who are part of a secret coven and have trap doors in their shanties. You could run into anything out here.

"But we want to get the best deal possible for our goods." He adds slowly. "There's a path at the bottom of this hill, and a little ways more is Windhelm. Once there we can take a carriage back to Markarth."

"Vorstag." I say sternly, glaring at his slightly nervous face.

"Saber," he complains, shifting his gear uncomfortably. "We need to sell this stuff to a fence. You want to get ripped off by price slashing merchants? I know I don't."

"There are other fences besides Endon, Vorstag." I say angrily, crossing my arms.

"And I'd be happy to do business with them if you could tell me who and where they are."

"You're impossible." I turn away in frustration and trudge heavily down the hill.

Suddenly my foot hits an ice patch and my feet slide from under me. I feel Vorstag's arms grab hold of my flailing elbows, but the hold is awkward and it causes him to fall as well. We tumble down the rest of the hill, grunting with each impact and spluttering as we try to breathe through the snow.

Finally the hill levels out and I come to a stop. I lie still for a moment and groan as I try to lift myself up. I'm battered, bruised, and freezing. I begin to feel bad for pushing Silus.

I crane my neck from where I lay, searching for Vorstag. He's easy to spot against the white snow, like a black ink stain on white parchment. I notice that our treasure bags ripped open as we fell, scattering the contents all along the hill, slowly disappearing in drifting snow.

"You all right?" Vorstag calls after a moment.

"I fucking hate this place."

"There's no snow in Markarth." I know he's goading me, but there's a hint of hope in his voice. I sigh and heave myself up.

He sits up from his heap and watches me walk back to the hill, fire igniting in my hands. "What are you doing?" He asks wearily, looking around for a possible threat.

"No point in going back to Markarth if we've nothing to sell." I can just feel his triumphant smile as I cast flames, melting the snow to retrieve our loot.


	2. Chapter 2

Markarth was just as pale and beaten down as the day we left it. It'd only been a few months, but it somehow felt different. I never called the city home, but I now felt like I no longer belonged. People watched us warily as we walked through the streets and I uncomfortably shift my bag of loot, making sure it is secure. I pull back and let Vorstag take the lead.

We wind our way up the stone stair cases and cross the waterfall bridge to find Endon at his usual spot. The well-dressed redgaurd smiles wide when he sees us, his unnaturally white teeth shining brightly against his dark skin.

"Well, you two still managed to stay alive." He says with a greedy smile. "Come to get good rates for your…goods?"

Vorstag tosses the heavy bag to the ground and I do likewise. We rifle through and present the fence with the daedric equipment and a variety of gems.

"Nice pieces here." He says with genuine awe, holding up one of the demonic cuirasses. "Please don't tell me where they came from."

"We didn't steal them, Endon." I scoff, crossing my arms. "Just because we're dealing with you doesn't mean our goods are stolen." I wasn't about to let him think I'd become some petty thief.

"Yes, yes," he says, pulling out his large bag of gold and counting a fair amount of coins. "You're an adventurer, a hero in the making." His voice lacked sincerity.

I'm about to defend myself further when Vorstag jabs me in the ribs. I glare at him demanding to know what that was for. His look tells me to shut up.

After finishing the deal and acquiring a very decent amount of gold, Endon asks, "So where are you heading next, my sweet entrepreneur?"

"We'll tell you when we get there." Vorstag says with a tight smile, pulling his almost empty sack from the ground. Endon watches us like a hawk sizing up its prey.

"Odds you survive, don't forget me." He says with a single-minded smile. "You are quickly becoming very promising costumers. But if you really are out of work, I know old Klepper at the Silver-Blood Inn has rumors that could point you in your next direction."

"Thanks." I say with a curt nod. We then turn and descend down from the falls. When he is out of earshot, I begin my rant. "I can't stand that guy. You see how he treats me, and now us? In all the time I've known him he never, ever had something supportive to say. Always tells me to try not to die! Thanks, I'll take that advice into consideration."

"Calm down." Vorstag groans. "You do realize the guy doesn't have to even deal with us. We aren't part of that Thieves Guild. I think he genuinely is trying to help you."

"Well I don't want his charity." I snarl. "I want respect."

"Give it time." He says kindly. He doesn't see it, but I roll my eyes. Suddenly he stops and turns to face me. "How about we buy a celebratory drink?" I notice we're at the bottom of the stairs. The Silver-Blood Inn sign rattles above in the breeze.

"No." I say, crossing my arms. "That place is a shit-hole."

"Well, that shit-hole happens to be where we first met," he says loftily, "so it only seems fitting we celebrate there. And besides, it's not that bad."

"The beds are made of rock."

"Okay, you got me there," he says agreement, "But it really isn't that bad. Don't forget I roomed there for quite some time."

"Fine," I groan, slumping in defeat. For a second I think I see hurt in his face, but I realize it's just a small smile. He opens the door and we head inside.

XXX

"Well, if it isn't Vorstag. Out of work again?"

"Klepper." Vorstag says with a curt smile as we approach the bar.

"In need of a room?" The greasy Nord asks sarcastically. "I'd offer your usual, but it seems you have company."

"No!" Vorstag says quickly, face flashing red. "Um, no need I mean. My partner here and I are simply getting a drink. Uh, drinks." He slams some money, a little harder than necessary, onto to the wooden bar. Klepper grabs it up with an amused smile and produces two bottles of mead. As if it was a second thought, Vorstag drops a few more coins and adds, "And some honey-treats, if available."

"Thanks," I say grabbing my grub. I nibble greedily on the glazed dessert and quickly drink the mead. Sooner I'm done the sooner we can get out of here.

"So, Kelpper," Vorstag says airily, "Any new rumors floating around since I've been gone?" I give him a sideways glance, praying to the gods he's just making small talk.

"Oh, you haven't heard?" He says with surprise, lifting his brows high as he begins to scrub at the sticky table. "I'm surprised. It's all the town seems to be talking about. The Hall of the Dead is closed."

"What?" I spew, choking a bit. Looking to Vorstag, I ask. "Is that even legal?" I knew something like this would greatly upset the Nordic traditionalist.

His face is hard. "How come?" He demands quietly. "Who allowed this?"

"Let's just say Brother Verulus isn't the most popular man in town right now."

Vorstag gulps down the rest of his drink and pushes himself away from the table. "Come on, Saber." He says dangerously, stalking off to the door.

Klepper laughs, his high, phlegmy voice ringing in the stony inn. "Don't kill the poor boy! He's just a fledgling priest of Arkay, fresh from Cyrodiil. The god of death wouldn't look too kindly upon his ill-timed murder."

I look between the two Nords, glare at the gossipy steward as I gulp down the rest of my mead, and chase after my hot-headed partner.

XXX

"What the hell was that all about?" I yell at him when we get outside.

He whirls at me, jaw clenched and eyes sparking. "The imperials think they can do whatever they want concerning our religion. They think they can just denounce Talos and close our halls." He's fuming, but I don't back down. I shove my nose in his face.

"I know what you're thinking," I hiss slowly, "So drop the idea because we are leaving."

"Saber, my family is buried in that hall." He says evenly, trying to check his anger. He knows by now that the more he yells the more I dig my heels. "I'm not about to be told I can't see them by some soft skinned imperial."

Vorstag rarely speaks of his family, the matter being somewhat uneasy between us. I'm not sure what to say, afraid of offending him or bringing up our old problems. "Vorstag," I say carefully, "I understand why you're mad, but you weren't even planning on visiting them. And I'm sure it's closed for a good reason."

"That's not the point!" He says, backing away and breaking eye-contact.

"Then what is the point?"

"The whole concept of them telling me what I can and can't do!"

"Vorstag," I say with a sigh, "You're such a racist."

"What?" He barks, turning back to me. "You don't know what you're talking about. Those imperials came here and decided they could tell us what do, who to worship."

"Hmm," I say, slightly agitated, "just like the Nords did to the Forsworn."

"Stop it." He says, pointing at me. "Don't make this about you."

I rub the bridge of my nose, trying to force down my flaring anger. I remind myself our relationship is delicate, he's delicate, and I can't push on him to hard or it'll all break. "Look," I say after I've calmed the brewing storm. "I value our partnership more than my desire to get out of here. So I'll make a compromise. We go see this priest, see what's going on, and make things right. Then we leave. Okay?"

"Okay." He says, stifling his spontaneous rage. I let him lead the way to the hall, all the while trying to ignore a sinking feeling that tells me the compromise won't hold.

XXX

"What are you hiding, priest?"

"I'm not hiding anything. It's closed for a reason."

We just entered Understone Keep, the jarl's palace that is connected to the hall, and it appears we walked in on a heated argument between a golden robed priest and a steel armored soldier. The latter's hand is on his sword. I sigh dramatically as Vorstag quickens his pace forward, eager to join in. It seems I can't catch a break.

"Typical Imperial lies," the angry Nord growls. "First you take away Talos, now you're keeping us from seeing our honored dead? You and the Jarl will answer for any desecration of my ancestors' bodies."

"That's enough, Thongvor." The young priest says, folding his arms confidently. "We're done. Now please leave." The guards around shift menacingly. Thongvor glares at them, looks once more at the priest, thinks better of it, and takes his leave, all the while muttering curses under his breath.

The priest turns to us, shoulder's still tense from the fight and sighs, "If it's about the Hall of the Dead, no you can't go in there." His eyes grow wide as the waver over Vorstag's leering form. Apparently he is more menacing than Thongrov.

"Who says?" Vorstag growls, his ebony mail swirling with darkness. The priest flinches, but quickly regains his resolve. I can tell he's about to retort something that'll get his neck snapped so I quickly intervene.

"Um, what we mean is, why can't we go in?" I say quickly jumping in between the two angry men. The priest stumbles back, apparently registering my presence for the first time. I've gotten used to that. When you travel with a guy as big and scary as Vorstag, people tend to look over you.

His eyes rest on me, and suddenly his manner changes. "Oh! Forgive me," He says with an apologetic bow. "I seemed to have lost my manners after dealing with that brute. I am Brother Verulus." He raises his hooded head, his young, clean-shaven face shining brightly at me. "But—but I can't talk about it. Rest assured, the Jarl hears everyone's concerns. You and you're husband will be able to visit your dead soon enough."

"Oh!" I stammer, looking at the boiling Nord behind me, "Um we're not—no. He's my—we're just partners."

"Ah, I see." Verulus says with a warm smile, eyes locked on mine. "I am truly sorry about this mess. Is there anything else I can do to help? Perhaps arrange an audience for you with the Jarl?"

"Yeah!" Vorstag says, shouldering his way around me. "You can tell us what's going on or do I have to find out myself?"

Verulus's face grows into a cold sneer. "You Nords are always so forward. Break things first and ask questions later. If you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I grab Vorstag's shoulder, digging my sharp nails so hard he can feel the pinch through the mail. "I'm sorry, Brother Verulus," I say to the priest. He smiles at the mention of his name. "What he meant was if we knew what the problem was maybe we could help. Right, partner?" I dig my finger nails harder and he winces, grunting yes. I then flash Verulus a happy smile trying to calm the tension.

His eyes waver between Vorstag and me. "Well, all right." He says, as if he's doing us a huge favor. "I was going to suggest the Jarl hire someone to sort this mess out, anyway." Oh no. This is not what I wanted to happen. I look to Vorstag, panic in my face. He smiles at me sarcastically as if saying I should have just let him beat in a few heads. I sigh inwardly and return Verulus's eager smile.

"What I'm about to tell you is…disturbing." He begins, fidgeting with his hands, eyes locked onto mine. "We've discovered that some of the dead have been…eaten. Flesh has been chewed off, bones were snapped to get at the marrow inside."

I feel my heart skip a beat. That is disturbing. "Could it be skeavers?" I suggest, looking at Vorstag mostly to break the priest's gaze. His expression is unreadable. "They've been known to live in the hall's."

"We haven't caught anything…or anyone…yet." Verulus says to me, his voice filled with fear. "It's like…it knows when I'm there." He pauses and looks at Vorstag for the first time in what seems like forever, and says, "If you can get to the bottom of this, the Priesthood of Arkay will reward you."

"Yeah, sure," Vorstag says quickly. "We'll both check it out."

"Oh," Verulus says, looking back at me. "Here, take my key, and be careful." I accept the key from his smooth hand and give him a curt smile.

"We'll take care of it in no time and be on our way." I say stepping backward.

"May I have your name, please?" He calls after us. "So I can inform the Jarl of course."

"Uh, I go by Saber," I say, then pointing to my partner, "He's Vorstag."

"Thank you, Saber!" Verulus says. "I pray to Arkay you solve this terrible crime."

I smile back at him awkwardly and quickly turn away, heading down the stairs to the giant, locked, dwarven door.

XXX

"I can't believe you let him treat you like that."

"Huh?" I ask, utterly confused. We have just unlocked the large door and shut it behind us. The stone groans as if it hadn't been used for a long time. The hall is disgusting, well, more disgusting than a hall full of dead bodies should be. Dust and dirt line everything, chairs and memorials are strewn about, and the coffins resting on the shelves are all cracked open. I dare to take a peak.

"Like you were some incapable girl that needed protection." He criticizes as he scans the dusty rooms. "You're stronger than he could ever be, so he should treat you like it."

"Oh, thanks." I say as I look the skeleton over. It's flesh is almost all gone, but the means of its disappearance do not look like decay. I shudder and pull away, heading toward another inlet with more tombs. "I guess I didn't notice. I was more concerned about you almost getting us thrown in jail." The coffins on this side are empty, but there's enough residue in them to suggest body recently occupied it.

"Oh, he wasn't going to throw you in jail." I hear him kick some debris out of his way more aggressively than required.

"Why do you even care?" I ask in a bored voice. "You sure didn't when Endon treated me like that."

"You can't tell me you didn't see what was going on." He complains loudly while opening more coffins across the hall.

I'm about to ask him what his problem is, when a soft, female voice interrupts my train of thought, echoing across the large stone hall.

"_Not many would walk blindly into a crypt, smelling of steel and blood, but not fear_."

I jump, knocking down a priceless jug left by one of the graves, and whirl to Vorstag. His sword is already out and he makes eye contact with me. He gestures for me to regroup. I rush over and stand at his back, flaring up sparks. My hands crackle with the lightning's energy, all the more powerful as my nerves rise.

"_I feel the hunger inside of you. Gnawing at you. You see the dead and your mouth grows wet. Your stomach growls_."

The voice moved, but the reverberations make it impossible to judge where it's coming from. I feel myself grow rigid at her words. "Vorstag," I whisper, "Any ideas?"

"Just that this is about to get very disturbing." He whispers back. "Show yourself!" He shouts, his voice mixing with her echo.

"_It's alright. I will not shun what you are._" She coos._ "Stay. I will tell you everything you have forgotten._"

A woman emerges from the shelves, standing beside us but out of sword's reach. We whirl at her, but she holds her hands up and gives us a hungry smile, like she knows something we don't. She is dressed plainly and has short, blonde hair. If it hadn't been for the blood smears on her face, the only thing unusual would have been her sudden appearance in the crypt.

"I'm not here to fight," she says kindly, a wide smile spreading across her round, bloody face. "Just to help you remember." She looks from me to him, then back to me. "My name is Eola. You were young when you first tasted human flesh, weren't you? A brother or sister had died?" She adds with a wink, "An, accident of course."

"What are you talking about?" I spit fearfully, the lighting sparking dangerously in my hands. "I don't know you, nor do I have any siblings!" This woman is insane.

"Shh…" she soothes, wiping her face as if she just remembered the blood. "It's okay, now. You've found a friend who understands you. You can let go of your guilt."

"We're not cannibals." Vorstag growls, turning the ebony blade in his hands. I can tell he's plotting in his head just when and where to strike.

Eola laughs softly and licks her fingers, dark brown eyes flashing up at him. "A lot of our kind block out the memory of their first meal. The shame is too much. But you don't need to hide anymore." She looks back to me and smiles as if she knows a secret I don't. "Namira, the Lady of Decay, accepts you for what you are. She has a place for us, where we can sate our appetites without judgment."

"Namira…" I say softly. I know that name. I heard it somewhere long ago. The memory hits me hard and I almost fall back. Namira is the Daedric Prince of all things revulting. She also happens to be the patron of cannibals.

"We want no part—!" Vorstag begins, raising his blade and stepping forward, but I jump in front of him.

"The Daedric Prince cares for us?" I say, emphasizing the words. Vorstag halts. I can feel his breath on my neck and his eyes boring into me. "Where is this place?"

"Inside Reachcliff Cave." Eola says merrily, swooning at the thought. She then grows rigid and stern. "But the dead have stirred from their slumber recently, and I was forced here. Meet me there and we shall fight our way to Namira's embrace together!"

Vorstag is about to respond but I cut him off once again. "We'll come." I say evenly, turning to look at him, begging him with my eyes to trust me. "It's time we stopped hiding what we are." He stares at me long, but finally grunts in agreement.

"Then it's settled." Eola says with a bloody smile. "Until then, tell the people of Markarth that their dead won't be disturbed, anymore. We have bigger plans ahead."

She then flashes in purple light and vanishes, her footsteps echoing throughout the halls as she runs away.


	3. Chapter 3

After we heard her leave through the door, Vorstag whirls at me, demanding answers. "What are you doing?" He whisper yells, still afraid the cannibal was within earshot.

"She's a daedric worshiper," I say, crossing my arms. "I thought this is what we do."

"Yeah, I figured that out," he scowls, "but we could have killed her then and there. Why did you stop me?"

"Weren't you listening to what she said?" I accuse, sounding a little more condescending than I mean it to be. "There are more of her kind out there, and according to her they all dine together in this one place. If we keep this ruse up we could get them all."

"And how do you know we aren't the intended meal?"

"She thinks we are like her." I say with a shrug. "I don't know why, but I have this gut feeling she truly wants us to join her. Maybe it's a subconscious guilt thing that drove her to show herself. Maybe she convinced herself we were like her to justify her confession. Seriously, anyone who feasts on the flesh of others is pretty crazy. Who knows what she's thinking."

A moment passes and he says nothing. I'm about to suggest we head out when he finally speaks, breaking eye contact and looking over his shoulder.

"They dumped them out." He says solemnly.

"What?"

"My parents' bodies." He says, pain lacing the severity in his voice. "They dumped them out of their coffins. They of course were just skeletons by now so they didn't try…eating them. But they dumped them out. They defiled their peace. I don't understand how Arkay—,"

"Hey," I say quietly, reaching out to him and placing my hand on his stiff shoulder. His eyes snap to me upon the touch. I don't understand what I see there so I quickly remove it. "Arkay doesn't have control over peoples' actions," I continue, "But he does know what's going on, and I know he doesn't like it. Why do you think we're here? Arkay knows we have sworn to kill Daedra so he knew we'd take it upon ourselves to end the evil happening here. And that's exactly, thanks to my brilliant plan, what we're going to do."

"I thought we were leaving Markarth." He snarks, crossing his own arms.

"And miss a chance at purging the daedric worshiping cannibals here?" I say loudly, waving my arms about. "I think not. Now let's tell that priest the hall is safe."

XXX

"You've returned!" Verulus exclaims, extremely relieved. "What happened in the Hall of the Dead?" His eyes flicker between me and Vorstag, and I'm sure he can tell it wasn't anything good by our disturbed expressions.

"The hall is safe now." I say with a queasy smile. "Don't worry about it anymore."

"Divines preserve you—you're a hero." He says, grabbing my hand and shaking it vigorously. Then, with a glance at Vorstag, "We'll reopen the hall right away."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that— yet." I say with a secretive smile. I couldn't help myself.

"No, you really are." He says, staring at me all worship like. "What you have done could possibly bring peace back to Markarth." He reaches his hand behind his back and unclasps a chain. "Here, take my amulet as a reward. I wish I had something more to offer you. Perhaps if you come back again sometime I might be able to."

It's quite rude to pass up a gift in Skyrim, so I have to take it. For formalities sake. He lets it coil into my open palm, a variety of wooden beads with a red sun amulet dangling at the end. An Amulet of Arkay, enchanting the wearer with good health.

"Thanks," I say, awkwardly stuffing it into my pocket.

"Saber, let's go." Vorstag says gruffly, nodding at the shining priest. I give the golden robbed man one last tight smile and chase after my partner, lengthening my strides to match his.

"Arkay protect you!" He calls after us as we ascend the stairs from the hall and open the large bronze doors, flooding the crumbling palace with gray light, and head back into the city.

XXX

"You're not going to put it on?" Vorstag says suddenly as we stroll through the streets, planning our next move. We can't just run head on and meet Eola at Reachcliff Cave. We need to restock and gear up first.

"Um, should I?" I say, giving him a sideways glance. "We are talking about the amulet, right?"

"I don't see why not." He responds gruffly. "It enhances health, and it's not like you're wearing any other jewelry."

"It's a weak spell," I say, pulling it out of my pocket. "I mean, I could buy something better. But I never really like the idea of enchanted items." The daedric dagger flashes across my mind, its red power swirling, my father's dying voice screaming in my head to let him go. I blink hard, jolting back to reality.

"Then sell it and buy something better." He growls, fidgeting with his own coin purse.

"What, no!" I say, clutching my hand as if he's going to snatch it from me. "It was a gift. I mean, it'd be rude to just sell it. And maybe it can strengthen our bond with Arkay."

"Then put it on." He says, temper flaring.

"Okay, okay!" I say, clasping the wooden beads around my neck. "Seriously, what has come over you recently? You've been acting—,"

"You there, pretty lady." The meat merchant yells. "Need some fresh meat for your family? Cook a nice meal for your husband there! Just look at the blood coming from this cut..."

"Oh! He's not—um," I stammer, my thoughts flying from me. "No, I think we're fine."

"What's wrong? Look how fresh it is! How delicious." He shoves the bloody meat in my face, wiggling the cut about. "The blood is what tells you the quality of the meat."

"She said she didn't want any!" Vorstag growls, slapping the man's hand away. The meat falls upon the dirty stones, splattering its juice.

"Oh!" the man says, reaching for it, but it's completely soiled. He straightens himself and bares his teeth. "You're going to pay for that! Literally." He sticks his hand out, demanding coin.

"You sure about that?" Vorstag growls back, hand on his sword.

"Do I need to get the guard involved?" the merchant says, glancing at the posted guard. She washes us from a distance, hand on blade in case she needs to get involved. "Ten coin."

Vorstag grunts angrily as he pulls out the coin and slaps it into the man's hand, so hard he loses grasp and the coins spill about. He stalks off once again, and once again I chase after him.

"Really?!" I huff, catching up to him, panting slightly. "That's the second time you almost got yourself thrown in jail today! Are you that desperate to get away from me?"

He glares at me, obviously not hearing the joke. "I'You're my partner and I'm not leaving until you tell me to."

Caught off guard, I falter for words. "Well, then," I say after a moment, "Partner, I suggest we restock our supplies and head out. We don't want to keep Eola waiting."

XXX

Vorstag's mood improved considerably once we got out of that forsaken city. I for one was not planning on returning anytime soon. Ever, in fact, if I could help it. The high walls and depressed atmosphere did things to people, slowly driving them insane. I don't know how we lasted as long as we did before we started our quest.

The land was hilly and open, so it was fairly easy to navigate our way to Reachcliff cave. It was only about six hours south east of the city, and we got there in good daedra hunting spirits.

I almost stubble down into it, for the ground slopes dramatically towards the cave entrance. Vorstag grabs the back of my armor and helps me right myself. I give him an embarrassed smile for, though I'm the light one on my feet, almost falling to my death seems to be recurring problem for me. There are large stalagmites sticking up around the entrance, in almost a ritualistic kind of way. I gulp down the fear they look like teeth and slowly work my way into the hovel, Vorstag trailing behind, ready to steady me again if needed.

Eola is waiting for us at the dark entrance. There is a small coal fire buring at the mouth of the cave, sending large shadows of teeth in the twilight. Her face seems darker and sunken in. But she couldn't look happier.

"You've come." She says with vigor. "The draugr infesting Namira's sanctuary are inside. Let us rid the temple of their filth."

I glance at Vorstag to see what we should do. _Ask her to stay here or help us? _I question.

"You can wait here while we clear it out," Vorstag says, sizing the small, yet scrappy, woman up. "No offense, but you don't look built for this kind of brute work."

I resist jabbing him in the gut. He relishes in provoking people. "That's quite alright. I did ask you strong folk for a reason." She says with a shadowy smile and tilt to her head. I feel as if she's reading our minds. I quickly try to think about cave trolls over killing the cannibal cultists. "And I do enjoy…other means to my end. I'll see you there."

We smile at her as she wishes us luck. I can feel her hungry eyes on our backs as we are swallowed into the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>sorry if Vorstag was a drama queen. i love writing guys but it can be a challenge sometimes! they feel so many emotions at once but reveal so few...comments welcome! :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's been a million years. Life got busy and then when it settled down I lost my motivation to write this for awhile. But never fear-I will not stop until it's over! Special thanks to Claroso for badgering me to continue. Hope you like the chapter-it's a long one! **

* * *

><p>Fire torches lit the cavernous space, beckoning us to continue forward. There is a sharp drop downward, marked by a steep, cobbled staircase. Large crumbled Nordic statues litter the once glorious catacomb, strewn obstacle like across the room and casting dark shadows. Perfect hiding spots for the Dragur. I look back at the entrance, gazing at the starry sky one last time, before jumping down. I land with a light thud, a dust cloud and spider webs swirling in my wake. Vorstag lands beside me, several times louder. His swords and sack clank obnoxiously.<p>

Wincing, I hear the haunting bark of a Draugr in the distance.

"There goes the element of surprise." I complain just audible enough for my clunky partner to hear. He answers by unsheathing is great sword, taking care to let it scrape raucously as he pulls it out.

The sound of padding feet comes from the side and we whirl toward the darkness, seeing only a growing pair of soulless blue eyes. Bracing myself, I light up my hands, letting the flames roar high, illuminating the shadows and exposing the Draugr. The mindless, sparsely armed zombie doesn't even stop, but throws itself forward in a suicidal attempt to fulfill its curse.

I duck down and Vorstag leaps over me, thrusting his sword through the creature the long way. It stalls, retching forward, suspended in the moment between life and death. Vorstag mercilessly twists his blade and the Draugr's lighted eyes go out and its juicy body cleaves in two.

"You know I hate it when you do that." I nag, reigning in my fire to palm sized flames.

"You're the one who ducked," he says, flicking the brown slime from his black blade. He then levers it under the backside of one of the halves, turning it over and searching for anything worth keeping. "Catch."

I respond reflexively, catching the item in my lit hands. A garnet. The red gem lights up beautifully in the fire, which I quickly extinguish, and I slip it into my pouch. I smile slightly as I feel it warm against my thigh. He knows they are my favorite.

We head down the lit tunnel, easily fighting the weaker Draugr as we wind are way through the tombs. Dead bodies (the non-zombie kind) line the walls and rest in the wall casks. They smell putrid, and I fight the urge to vomit, wrapping a clean cloth around my face.

"Saber," Vorstag calls quietly upon moving off the side, "Look at these bodies." I bound over and look to where he points.

A series of bodies are falling out of their inlets, wrapping pulled off and purple muscles exposed under ripped flesh.

"Are those bite marks?" I ask quietly, mostly rhetorical. We both know what this place is, and we now know we are getting nearer.

"These cannibals, Saber," he says in a tight voice, gripping his lowered blade, "they aren't people. They are monsters. Don't show any mercy when we face them. No matter who happens to be in that…dining hall."

I give him a curt nod and turn away, winding my way slowly through the labyrinth of forgotten graves. It irked me that he felt the need to check my resolve, that he thought I might go soft. I couldn't help but feel he was questioning my past, that I would try to see through the cannibal and find a lost, trapped person being forced to do barbaric things. Just like me back in my Forsworn days. I shake the memories from my head. These were stained, evil people that could not be reconciled with. I was fully committed to purging them.

We make it out of the catacombs and come to a steep ledge where a stone bridge once was. Though the way across is broken, I can see a makeshift staircase leading from the pitch black ground on the other side. Without thinking, I shoot mage light into the pit and jump down with it when it hits.

It was about a fifteen foot drop down, a little deeper than I estimated, and my ankles throb at the impact. With a small wince I quickly heal myself, the yellow glow swirling around my shadowed form. I look up to Vorstag, about to motion him to come down when I hear a groaning pops all around me.

Panicked, I whirl, lighting the area to find at least half-a-dozen draugr climbing out of ancient stone coffins. Shit.

Vorstag makes to leap down but I yell at him to wait. Worried but trusting my judgment, he holds his position from above, sword braced in his hand. "Just don't start any trouble without me." He calls from above, knowing I intend to do just that.

The draugr advance slowly from all sides, as if they aren't sure what to make of me. Slowly, I begin to moves my arms in front of, my fingers caressing the air, tugging on his energy and bending it to my will. The biggest draugr, wearing a horned helmet, scans me with its glowing blue.

My arms light up in soft flames and pyro spheres begin to form in my hand. I can feel the power vibrating within me, blazing and burning to get out, and surrounding me in a red glow.

The dominant draugr barks a series of incoherent words and points a bony hand at me.

Not yet.

The other draugr growl in response, raising their ancient swords, and charge at me from all sides.

Now.

With a maddened cry I thrust my arms down. For a split second nothing happens.

Then the world goes orange. I slam my eyes shut and crunch down, bracing myself and quickly unsheathing a pair of steel blades. Heat swells from me, lighting the world on fire. I hear the draugrs bellow in pain as their rotten flesh burns to a crisp and can picture their cursed bodies falling down in contorted heaps of ash, Vorstag leaping into a stone alcove as the flames roar up the walls, cursing me for showing off.

I feel my energy drain rapidly and pull my eyelids open. The world is blurry and still smoldering, large fires dancing before my eyes. I take a deep breath and rein the fire in, leaving nothing but the charred bodies and the smell of smoke and flesh.

I try to stand but find my legs shaking, cold sweat pouring down my forehead and spreading across my back. I try to use my sword to pull myself up but collapse to my knees. With an uneven breath I rest my head on its hilt.

Vorstag drops down and runs to me, standing guard in a protective manner. When he sees the draugr are dead, well deader than before, he drops his guard and crouches by me, pulling out a small green vial.

"Drink up." He says with a small smirk.

I try to say thanks, but can only manage a cough. He laughs, but I can tell its laced with worry. I pour the stamina potion into my dry mouth, its lemony taste doing little to quench my thirst but restoring power to my limbs and ceasing the aches in my head and back. I feel my heart rate return to normal and pull myself up from the ground, better than ever, but a little disappointed.

"Saber," he scolds lightly, "what were you thinking?"

"I was _thinking_ I'd be able to handle it this time."

"What would you have done if those draugr hadn't all died? You were in no condition to fend them all off."

"That's what I have you for." The words came out naturally and I want to shove the words back into my mouth the moment they left. I feel my ears grow hot and physically restrain myself from slapping myself.

He doesn't say anything, but just stares down at me, brow furrowed. Oh, Lady Dibella, why must you torture me so?

Wracking my brain, I desperately look for something to say. "Anyways, it was just practice. I need to work on the bigger spells more if I want to build my magicka up. Remember how I always use to pass out? Now I don't! And eventually I'll be able to do it without collapsing. "

He sighs, awkwardly reaching out to me and placing his large hand on my shoulder. "I understand that, but I still think it'd be better if you didn't practice that _on our quests_. Why risk needlessly tiring yourself out when it matters the most? You can always practice out in the wilds. Cook us up some nice venison and horker meat."

I shrug him off and give him a small scowl. "But that's no fun. Now come on, we have a cave to purge."

XXX

After clearing more of the catacombs, we found ourselves facing a large, double iron door at the end of a vaulted hall. The massive structure had intricate designs carved on its surface, with grand iron snake slinking their way up its surface and around the frame, their metal tail ends serving as grand handles.

Vorstag and I look to each other, a little apprehensive to find out what lies behind.

"Get ready for a fight." He says with a small growl, placing his hand on his sword, ready to draw. With a large thrust, I push the doors open, revealing the chamber within.

A long stone table, stained with blood spans the length of the arched room. The once grandeur of the place is visible among the decay and crumbling architecture. One could only gues the honorable feasts that took place hear in honor of the dead. Now it had been refiled to feats on the dead. I shuddered at the thought and crept into the room, small fires burning in my palms.

In the stone chairs sit a series of long dead bodies, their flesh shrunken in and clinging gruesomely to their exposed bones. Clad in ancient armor covered in cobwebs and dust, I wonder just how long they'd been here.

Suddenly their eye pits light up.

Not too long I guess.

Their bones groan and creak as their pull themselves from the ancient chairs, pulling out swords and capping on large, deer horned helmets. The draugr at the head steps up on the table, shouting in such a loud voice that my brain vibrates within my skull. I cringe, attempting to cover my ears without burning them off. And then they charge.

Vorstag bellows, unsheathing his great sword and hacking the first draugr to reach us in two. I spring from my crouch and latch my legs around a bewildered one's waist, shoving my blazing hands into its face and burning it to a crisp. I quickly jump of it as it crumples backward, rolling to the pillared side parallel to Vorstag. We flank from behinds the pillars, killing the numerous draugr as we push to the head.

"That's an overlord!" Vorstag shouts amongst the din, referencing to the large, decorated draugr barking upon the table. "He'll be a hard bastard to take down!"

"What is it doing?" I yell back, sweeping a brutish, heavy one from its decaying feat and blazing it alive as it turtle-like tries to get up.

"I'm not sure!" He calls back. I from the forest of pillars I see him lunging and slicing draugrs in a frenzied battle that he somehow makes look like a graceful dance. That sword must weigh at least twenty pounds, yet he swings it with ease. "Let's try not to get to close to it."

Agreeing with him, I avoid the overlord for the time being, focusing my attention on the draugrs in front of me. In my moment of distraction, one draugr had gotten closer in than I expected. It swings a rusty blade at me, biting into my shoulder.

I cry in pain, recoiling from the force of the blade, instinctually clutching at the wound. It comes at me again, blade raised in a slicing motion. No time to heal. With one hand I cast flames at the monster, rolling out of the way as it swings downward. With its back to me I clumsily wrench a sword from my sheath and stab through the back of its neck. It make a grotesque choking sound and collapses underneath my weight.

Wrenching my blade free, I swing around, catching another one in the legs. It falls to the side, attempting to get up, but I crush its chest under my foot, hearing the ribs crack, and stab it down to the floor. My good hand once again free, I shoot flames into its face until the blue lights go out. Dead.

As my body cools down, I am reminded of the hot pain I my shoulder. Quickly, I heal it up, doing my best not to look at the blood soaked leather. As the pain goes I feel strength return to my arm. Clenching my fist, I feel my energy return. Time for more dual casting.

The draugr are gone on my side, but Vorstag is still fighting his across the room. I get a good sight of him between the pillars, raise my hands, and cast healing hands on him. The yellow light swirls around him and I can see a new spring in his step as he slices down the remaining draugr. He turns to me, a wicked smile on his face, and motions for us to take the deathlord on.

We burst from the pillars to the center of the room, ready to confront the helmeted monster. Vorstag jumps up onto the stone table, leveling himself with the deathlord. It watches eerily as Vorstag twirls his sword. I begin building up a fireball in my hands, ready to shoot when needed. After a moment, Vorstag charges forward, a bloody scream in his wake. I hold the ball, and waiting for a good opening.

"Fus ro dah!"

I feel myself go flying through the air, letting my fire ball go, and crash into one of the stone pillars. Head pounding violently and world spinning, I search for Vorstag. The ceiling smokes from where my fireball hit, dropping embers on the table. Still disoriented, I feel my way up the pillar and stand, quickly casting a ward just in time.

The deathlord is upon me, hacking at the blue energy shield with a greatsword larger than my body. Each blow causes dull pain in my head and I feel my magicka wearing down, the shield slowly dissipating. If I could just get the dead creature off of me, I'd have a fighting chance.

"Vorstag!" I shout, panic powering my weakened voice. My ward dispels.

Suddenly a black line pierces through the deathlord's chest. It bawks, retching forward and looking down at the protrusion. Dropping its own blade, it grabs hold of the black matter and tugs, confused and in pain. Suddenly the line slices up, cleaving its rib gage and exposing ghastly, shriveled organs.

Its body separates before me, armor clanking loudly to the floor, revealing a glowering Vorstag from behind.

He grunts, flicking the grimy secretion from his blade and kicks the dead draugr away. Looking to me, his eyes are wild and searching.

"Are you allright?" He asks, roughly pulling me up from my crouched position. His hands are on the sides of my head, eyes lingering and fingers soft.

"Am _I _allright? Vorstag, Are you allright!?" The left side of his head his covered in blood, oozing and from his skull and matting his dirty blond hair.

His soft fingers fall from my face, touching his own. He draws them back and looks at the dark red blood that stained his fingers. His blood. "I—I hadn't noticed…" He murmurs, starting to sway. I catch him as he sinks to the ground, falling a little myself from his weight.

I quickly heal him up and watch as his eyes refocus from his daze and the bash in his head reclose.

"Thanks." He manages with a smile, wiping the blood off. "Wasn't expecting that." He adds, referring to the draugr's force shout.

"That was ancient magic." I say, kneeling beside him, staring at the dead creatures around us. All those dead bodies; they could have been me, could have been us. "We weren't prepared for that sort of thing. Hell, we are never prepared for that sort of thing. We always just burst into situations relying on brute strength to get the job done." I look at the blood on him, the blood on me. "I don't know, maybe we are in over our heads."

"Where's all this coming from.," he says, pulling himself up and sheathing his blade. "Not an hour ago you said you were having fun?"

"I don't know." I say again, unable to meet his hazel eyes. "I just, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. If you got hurt and I wasn't able to heal you in time. If I ran out of energy and failed you…" I feel a lump forming in my throat, unsure where or why it was forming.

"I'm glad you have so much faith in my ability to survive." He says sarcastically, still facing me. I can feel him watching me, but I refuse to look.

"That's not what I meant." I mumble, staring at the ground, composing myself. I look up, pretending to look at him but secretly staring past his shoulder.

"I know, Saber. I feel that way about you. All the time. Ever since I saw—"

"What's that?" I say suddenly, noticing come strange device on the wall.

He blinks, retracing his words, "I was saying, well, what I'm trying to say—"

"No, no!" I say, pushing him around to face the other end of the hall. "What is _that_?" At the end of the dinning hall, there is a platform about five steps upward with a strange low table protruding from an intricate vanity. Something about it seems wrong.

I brush past him, quickening my strides, and cautiously ascend the steps. The vanity is a series of curved spikes, giving birth to a sinister man wearing a hawk-lion like headpiece. From the statues beak, a chain dangles, suspending a rusty red spike from above. No. Not rust. Dried blood.

There's a cracked lever on the wall beside the strange pedestal. I feel my fingers reach for it, my hand clasping on the cold, blood stained metal, and I pull. The spike comes falling down, piercing into a chipped hole in the small table's surface as it had hundreds of time before.

"What kind of monstrosity is this?" Vorstag has appeared at my side, watching the spiked chain retract back into the horrific statue.

"Like I said…" I whisper eerily. "In over our heads."

"These cannibals must al die." He says, a hint of terror in his voice. "This place, this cursed place must be destroyed. Something like this should never be able to happen again. I just can't even fathom how people could do this to one-another. To torture each other so, and feast on each other's flesh? It's demonic."

"Let's get out of here." I say, backing away from the device.

As we make our way back to the hall's entrance, I notice another lever on the wall. And a a strange outcropping of stone. I smile, pivoting towards it.

"What now?" Vorstag says, confused.

"We might not have to take the long way." I say cheerfully, pulling the lever. "Short cut!"

The wall rumbles open. Revealing a short cut and Eola on the other side.

Both of us scream, jumping back and drawing out weapons. The blonde laughs in response.

"How did you—how long were you?!" Vorstag stammers, taken aback by the blonde cannibal's sudden appearance. We awkwardly sheathe our blades, unsure of what to do. Had she heard what we had been saying?

"I told you I'd see you here, my heroes." She gives a toothy grin, her teeth unmarred by blood this time. "I've spent quite some time in this sanctuary…know all its ins and outs."

"You could've popped out at any time and helped us clear these draugr." Vorstag complains, though I know he's just trying to gage how long she has been here.

She pouts and tilts her head, surveying the room. "I only just arrived…though I don't think I'd been much help…but you've done it." She adds smugly, as if this isn't a surprise. "The shrine is ours again. Now we need to prepare a grand feast to welcome you to Namira's coven."

"Coven?" I ask, quickly trying to mask the disgust in my voice with awe. No one is here besides her though, so are plan to destroy them all will have to wait. We'll have to attend this feast in order to put an end to this Daedric cult.

"Yes my dears." She says, hopping down from the ledge and landing beside us. She moves like a cat, her green eyes unnaturally wide and always watching. "You will have the honor of brining a fresh kill for the main course. And I know the perfect person."

"What?" I gag, panic enveloping me. This was not part of the plan. I don't want to cause anyone (or let anyone) die. It hadn't occurred to me that the cult would be dining when we killed them.

Her vague eyes drift to me, so open and unblinking that I can see the full irises. A puzzled expression clouds her face and she cocks her head. "Still afraid, my sister?" she coos, taking a step toward me, her hand reaching for my face. I begin to take a step back when Vorstag instinctually steps in front of me.

"Just tell us who we need to bring." He growls bitterly.

"A priest, filled with the taste of an easy life." The cannibal says with flourish. She pauses, bating our patience. "Brother Verulus, from Markarth."

"What?" I balk, the image of the young, silly boy flashing in my mind.

"My dear, dear sister," Eola says sympathetically, as if she understands my discomfort. "You must understand this is the natural order of life. People are born and people die. His death will be of great meaning and held in Namira's honor. He couldn't ask for a better transition from this world to the next."

I have nothing I can say. I have nothing I want to say. It is taking every ounce of my will power from lighting up my hands and scorching her to ashes. It would be such an honorable death for Arkay and one that would hold great meaning to me and all the people she's devoured. I'm about to release the flames when Vorstag's voice cuts through.

"I think what Saber is confused about is how exactly we're supposed to get that pompous seat cushion down in this hole? He barely would enter the hall in fear of monsters. What makes you think he'll voyage out to some unknown cave with strangers?"

"Appeal to his sense of duty." She says with a smile, handing Vorstag a heavy bag. "Give him this gold. Tell him you need Arkay's help exploring an old cavern for treasure."

"And then what?" I say evenly, checking my anger. "What are we to do with him when we get here?" No more going with the flow planning. I want to know exactly what we're getting involved in.

"When he stands in Namira's presence," Eola says mysteriously, "she will take care of the rest."

I look at Vorstag, questioning if he wants to fall back on his old plan, kill first ask questions later, but he won't make eye contact with me. "Will do." He says forcefully, slipping the bag of gold onto his side. "The boy won't suspect a thing."

He then walks forward to the secret entrance, leaving me standing with the crazed cannibal. After a few moments of intense eye contact, I nod at her and scamper after my partner. None too eager to see her again and question him about what the hell is going on.

Her eyes are on the strange pendulum table, and without watching us leave she calls, "Say hello to Verulus for me."


End file.
